


A Homeopathic Cure for Insomnia

by abstractconcept



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Filth, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, filth filth filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-04
Updated: 2008-03-04
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: Harry doesn’t get what he wants, but going to Snape gets him what he needs. It might be a bit sadistic, but it’s still homeopathic, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Still importing. I can't remember what was in this, so I marked "Choose Not to Warn." There's no character death, but there may be underage. I just don't remember. Might be dubcon, I dunno. Here be dragons and horny people.

Harry opened his mouth to explain as Snape opened the door, but the man scowled and waved him to silence. He gestured for Harry to follow him, stepping back and disappearing into the inky darkness. Harry hesitated, feeling nervous, but finally took a deep breath and entered the house. After all, Draco would have warned the man, and everyone knew Snape was notoriously paranoid. He probably thought the Ministry had his front stoop bugged or something.  
  
"Where--?"  
  
"Shhh."   
  
There was a soft click behind him, and the square of light from the front door vanished. Now surrounded by total darkness and sure Snape was somewhere behind him, Harry's palm itched for his wand, but Draco had insisted he leave it behind. "Draco sent me. I need—" Harry began, but a warm hand clapped itself over his mouth.  
  
"I know what you need," Snape purred into Harry's ear, the smooth, deep voice filling his head and making Harry's blood thrum. "We have a substitute," he added.  
  
"Indeed?" another man's drawling voice answered.   
  
For a moment, Harry felt wild confusion. Did Snape mean substitute teacher? But he wasn't Harry's professor anymore, and Harry didn't . . .   
  
Something plucked at the front of his shirt, and it took him a few seconds to realize he was being undressed. Shocked, Harry tried to jerk away from Snape's hand, still gripping his face, but Snape grabbed his shoulder and roughly jerked him in admonition. "Do you want it, or don't you?" he growled.   
  
Harry opened his mouth a little, but then had second thoughts. He wanted the potion very badly. He hadn't slept in days. Harry shut his mouth and nodded, and let Snape push him forward. Harry stumbled and someone managed to catch him. "Do try not to shove him into me," the man protested.   
  
"Lucius?" Harry said in horror as the realization dawned. "Lucius Malfoy?" He scrabbled to get away, but the man had a good hold of his clothing, and this only caused his shirt to untuck itself from his jeans. Ignoring Harry's frantic jostling, Lucius apparently undid Harry's fly; he could suddenly feel cool air wafting over his crotch. "STOP!" he roared, striking the man.   
  
Snape grabbed Harry's face again, hissing some spell that fizzled down Harry's spine. As Harry wriggled, mouth blocked once more by Snape's strong hand, Malfoy jerked his jeans down around his hips. While Harry tried to decide whether to try elbowing Snape in the stomach or kicking Lucius in the balls, there was a silken sound and—  
  
" _Ohfuck._ "   
  
Harry was jolted forward, pain flashing through his arse; something had struck his backside. It wasn't Snape's hand; it was hard and flat and made a tremendous SMACK as it connected with his flesh. There was a stunned pause and another whoosh before Harry felt the burn again, rising to his tiptoes with a gasp of pain.   
  
"If you do not behave, there will be _consequences,_ " Snape told him coolly. "Comply, or leave unsatisfied."  
  
"But I didn't know there would be sp- _spanking,_ " Harry stuttered. Was it worth this? Despite all logic, Harry realized he was suddenly and _achingly_ hard. Thank god it was dark enough that no one could tell.  
  
"You seemed to be asking for a beating," Lucius pointed out. Harry snarled, wanting to hit the man, but a hand grazing his bare stomach made him gulp.   
  
"What are you—" But there was no point in asking what the man wanted; his elegant fingers curling round Harry's prick made it all too clear. "D-don't," he stammered, unsure if he meant it.   
  
"You can't deny you're enjoying yourself," Lucius told him skeptically, fondling fingers serving to prove his point.   
  
Another whoosh, just enough time for Harry to clench his teeth, and there was another tremendous _smack._ "Don't lie to us," Snape told him.  
Harry let out a shaky breath. The pain, combined with the lack of sleep, was muddying his thinking. "I'm not," he ground out.  
  
This time Harry whimpered as the paddle—for surely it had to be a paddle—made violent contact with his sore flesh. The smack thrust Harry's hips forward, pushing his member into the circle of Lucius' thumb and forefinger. "Liar," Snape growled.   
  
Now Harry was throbbing—his bum was hot and stinging, but his prick was pulsing as well, and the pleasure ran counterpoint to the tenderness in his arse. "Whatever you want," he gasped.   
  
"Hmmm?" Lucius said with polite interest, squeezing Harry in an insufferably wonderful way.  
  
"Do whatever you want!" Harry repeated loudly. There, he'd said it. He'd get what he wanted, they could take what they wanted and—he'd get what he wanted.   
Lucius abruptly let go of Harry and stood, causing Harry to moan softly with disappointment. "Never fear; I'll make certain you see that surrender is always the correct choice," the man told him in a buttery voice.   
  
Snape's hand, which had still loosely held his jaw, instead buried itself in Harry's hair, pulling his head back. Harry could feel Lucius cup his face with both hands, and then—God almighty—Lucius was _kissing_ him. On the other hand, perhaps kissing was too gentle a word for the slick thrust of tongue on tongue, and not nearly intimate enough. 'To kiss' didn't exactly strike Harry as the same thing as 'to explore someone's throat with the tip of your tongue.'  
  
Harry shuddered, hands rising involuntarily and splaying themselves on Malfoy's shoulders.   
  
Snape chuckled softly, a dark, lascivious sort of laugh, and Harry groaned into Lucius' mouth. "I think he rather likes that," the former potions professor noted dryly. "Do you?" he added, lips intimately caressing Harry's ear. "Do you?"  
  
Harry tried to say yes, but couldn't force the word out; Lucius' tongue was in the way. He nodded a little and felt something wet and warm slide over his earlobe. "He _does_ like it," Snape murmured. He began kissing his way down the back of Harry's neck. The sensation was absolutely astonishing; Harry wouldn't have believed it had he not experienced it first hand. After all, Snape didn't even have lips worth mentioning.   
  
The hot mouth trailed wetly down the nape of Harry's neck, sizzling and slipping between his shoulder blades, sucking at the small of his back. Snape's fingers tugged at Harry's trousers and pants, pulling them down. They stuck on Harry's shoes, and Harry heard the man grumble as he tapped his wand against Harry's shoe laces and yanked a trainer off, throwing it aside, to allow Harry's clothing to puddle round one ankle. Harry was suddenly and terrifyingly aware of the fact that he was naked below the waist. As far as he knew, Lucius and Snape were still fully clothed. Weren't they? He had no idea, come to think of it. They might be even MORE nude, and Harry wasn't sure the thought was much of a comfort.  
  
Snape shoved Harry's legs apart, and Harry wanted momentarily to protest, but then Snape's open mouth was working against the sensitive skin on the back of his calf, and anyway Lucius was still in full possession of Harry's tongue. Then Snape began making his way up, and goosebumps broke out all over Harry's body as the man softly breathed on the quivering flesh of Harry's inner thigh. Despite Harry's fervent desire that someone apply friction to his twitching erection, Snape got no closer, instead parting his arse cheeks with both hands.   
Harry tried to jerk away from Lucius to make a protest, but this only served to rock him back, spearing him on Snape's most unexpected tongue.  
  
"Gnh!" Harry managed. Snape seemed a bit surprised by the movement as well, but quickly recovered. Harry sucked in a breath through his nose as the man's tongue twisted inside his arse, hot and slippery and intrusive. Harry continued to struggle against the invasion for a few moments, but Lucius let go of his face to grip both wrists tightly, almost painfully, and cleverly drew Harry's attention back to his own tongue.   
  
It seemed forever Harry was trapped, writhing, between two slick probing muscles, his mouth and arse plundered sweetly as he made muffled sounds of agonized bliss. Harry's belly tightened, and he clenched Lucius' shoulders tightly, but the man suddenly broke away. "Enough," he said hoarsely, and Snape ceased his amazing ministrations as well. Harry made a strangled noise of complaint.   
  
"Eagerness might be considered a virtue," Snape said as though he doubted this were so, "but patience is the key."  
  
"And patience is also a virtue," Lucius pointed out, running a cool finger over Harry's hot face, "and virtue is supposedly its own reward."  
  
"I doubt you should be talking about virtue," Harry rasped. Lucius' smooth chuckle made Harry tremble.   
  
"But I do know a great deal about patience," the man assured him.   
  
Harry gave this a moment's reflection. The tip of Snape's finger was licking down his spine, it was strangely frictionless, as though it were sliding on a cushion of electricity. It blazed a path to Harry's entrance, pausing a moment. "I don't think there's anything I'd like to learn on the subject of patience," Harry blurted. With a gruff laugh, Snape pushed his finger into Harry.   
  
"Relax," he purred. Harry tried to comply as Snape began smoothly thrusting his finger in and out of Harry's body. As Harry began to relax, the man pressed his lips to the back of Harry's neck in something like a kiss. "Now bend forward at the hips," he instructed.  
  
Harry doubted his ability to do this and maintain his balance, but Lucius held his shoulders and backed away, making Harry certain of his footing. Snape grasped Harry's hip with one hand, and Harry felt more secure until he realized his face was level with Malfoy's crotch, which was surely not a coincidence.   
  
Lucius pushed his hips forward until the fabric of his trousers brushed against Harry's cheek. So he _was_ clothed, then. But the man made no further move, and Harry bit his lip. Finally, ever so softly, he nuzzled the hardness behind the velvety fabric. Lucius groaned, sending a frission of pleasure through Harry. Harry rubbed his face against the strained tent, then tilted his head to suck the cloth covering Lucius' erection. He was getting off on this so much he hardly noticed Snape adding another finger. Harry feathered the tip of his tongue over the damp fabric of Lucius' trousers. Malfoy seemed to like this; he curled both hands in Harry's hair and urged him forward.   
  
Then something blunt, hot and thick was pressed to Harry's arse, and Harry balked. Snape gave his bum a stinging slap. "You concentrate on your task, and I'll concentrate on mine," he growled.   
  
Harry breathed shallow breaths as Snape pushed into him. It burned; it was simply too big to be real.  
  
“Lumos,” Snape muttered, and from somewhere nearby his wand sputtered to life, an unholy glow serving to just barely illuminate the situation. It was excruciating to be bent double in front of Lucius Malfoy and his tented trousers; Harry glanced up into the man’s smirking face, but had to look down quickly.  
  
“Too much?” Lucius inquired sweetly, dragging a thumb down the side of Harry’s face; it came away wet and Harry realized the stinging in his eyes had spilled over into hot tears. Was it pain? Shame? Terror? And why, oh why wasn’t his prick listening, then? Lucius licked his thumb with a casual air, as if he were about to turn the page of a book.  
  
Harry wasn’t about to show fear or pain. Bad enough that his eyes had watered; he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to undo Malfoy’s belt buckle.  
  
“Brave little soldier,” Snape remarked snidely. He thrust into Harry, who grunted.   
  
Lucius tisked, helping Harry with his fly. Good grief, the man was much larger than his son. _Not that that implied much,_ Harry acknowledged. Still, there was something about the man’s gestures, the way he carefully took Harry by the chin and guided him to his cock . . .  
  
Harry opened his mouth wide, letting the silky, musky prick slide into his mouth, bumping against the back of this throat. Snape withdrew and slammed his hips forward again, and Harry fought off panic, trying not to gag.   
  
Snape set the rhythm; brutal and nasty, his hands clamped hard on Harry’s hips. Lucius merely held Harry in place, doing no work, making no effort. Harry just tried to breathe; Lucius filled his mouth, warm and pulsing. The man pulled back to brush the head of his prick against Harry’s lips before pressing between them again, allowing Harry just a moment of breath before Snape’s swift thrusts took them over again.   
  
It was humiliating, and yet . . . it was good, too. The fact that Lucius was looking down on him, impassive and cool, his impeccable little smirk still in place, drove Harry quite mad. Harry pulled back, fluttering his tongue over the head of Malfoy’s penis. Lucius drew a sharp intake of air, which Harry relished. A salty splash of precome dribbled over Harry’s tongue, which prickled with eager salivation.   
  
God, there had to be something wrong with him that he was enjoying this so much.   
  
Snape, too, seemed to be enjoying himself; with each snap of his hips he made a soft, animalistic sound, something between a growl and a moan. He planted one of his hands in the small of Harry’s back, perhaps for balance, and the touch sent a lance of pleasure up Harry’s spine. Who knew Snape’s spidery hands were good for something between stirring potions?  
  
“For an unremarkable child, you do make a very pretty cocksucker,” Lucius remarked, stroking Harry’s face with the back of his hand. Harry made a small noise of pleasure, letting Lucius push deeper. Harry tried to suppress his gag reflex, allowing the man deep into his throat. Lucius sighed, his head falling back, pale hair spilling down over his shoulders.   
  
Then Snape jerked Harry back, impaling him and pulling him off of Malfoy’s prick. Malfoy made a noise of complaint, wrapping one hand round Harry’s head and slamming Harry forward, forcing himself down Harry’s throat. Harry was too surprised to do more than swallow around the length, and Lucius groaned again, more loudly.   
  
Apparently it was too much for the man, because as Snape drew Harry off again, Lucius spasmed; hot come splashed over Harry’s still-open mouth, dribbling down his chin.   
  
With a noise of satisfaction, Snape grasped Harry’s shoulder, hauling him upright. It made for a somewhat awkward position, but it allowed the man to curl an arm round Harry’s chest. He turned Harry’s head to kiss him deeply, his thrusts slowing, each slippery, jarring, grind of his hips making white lights flare in Harry’s head. Lucius bent his head, biting Harry’s neck hard enough to bruise. Harry whimpered in protest and the man drew off.   
  
“Still in need?” he asked. “Well, I suppose one good turn deserves another . . .” Harry couldn’t answer; Snape was still kissing him, his tongue moving languidly, sensuous and serpentine against Harry’s. Half-occupied, Harry felt Lucius pressing surprisingly gentle kisses down his torso, only to—  
  
Harry arched, toes curling as the hot suction of Malfoy’s elegant, filthy mouth encircled him, swallowing him down to the root. Lucius cupped his balls, rolling them as though fondling small sacks of gold; Harry was coming before the man had drawn off once.   
  
He pulled away from Snape’s kiss to cry out; Snape laughed as Lucius neatly swallowed, then sank back on his heels. “Still not done, Severus? You always were a gluttonous creature.” Lucius looked over his shoulder and Harry saw an armchair just behind him; the man rose and sat, watching like a contented cat. He crossed his legs, his fly still undone but other than that, fully clothed. The toe of his boot rose and fell in time with Snape’s thrusts as Harry watched, mesmerized.   
  
“Admiring my footwear?” Lucius asked, amused. “They’re leather, you know. Draco prefers dragonhyde, but that’s _so_ showy.”  
  
“Oh, and that’s not your style at all,” Harry gasped sarcastically.  
  
Snape nudged Harry forward until he practically fell across Lucius’ lap. “Keep his mouth busy,” Severus instructed.   
  
Lucius’ eyebrows shot up. “If I’d known you’d ask, I’d have requested a Stamina Serum ahead of time. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”  
  
Snape leaned low over Harry’s back, tangling a hand round a lock of long, blond hair, and pulled Lucius forward to kiss the man’s lips. “You’re creative in an entertaining, nasty sort of way,” Severus growled. “I’m certain you can think of something.”  
  
With a gesture of ambivalence, Lucius reached over and plucked a wine glass from a table near the chair. Harry noticed the glass was half full. And Snape had _kissed_ Lucius! He wondered what they’d been doing before he got there. “Very well,” Lucius sighed. “Lick my boots.”  
  
“Huh?” Harry looked up with a taken-aback grimace. “No, way!”  
  
Snape swatted his bum. “I can always bring out the paddle again,” he threatened. “Before or after completion; it makes no difference to me.”  
  
Harry frowned, but the toe of the shoe waved about in front of his nose was clean, at least. In fact, it shone in the dull wandlight, probably recently polished. And Harry could _smell_ the leather. . .  
  
He leaned forward, tentatively licking the toe of Lucius’ boot. It didn’t taste bad; a bit sour, but just sort of leathery and velvety-smooth against Harry’s tongue. He tried again, and Lucius hummed with quiet satisfaction. “This is what I’m always on about when I speak of people knowing their place,” he murmured. “You see, the boy _likes_ it.”  
  
Snape sighed. “Well, he’s of pure blood, whereas _I’m_ not, and I’m a top.”  
  
“This is true; you’re very rigid on this issue,” Lucius acknowledged wryly, and Harry got the feeling they’d had this discussion many times before. “Which is why we always need a flexible third party to play with.”  
  
Harry sucked the toe of Lucius’ boot into his mouth, shuddering in pleasure as the man wiggled his toes.  
  
“Yes, where _is_ Draco tonight?” Snape remarked. Harry went very still.   
  
Lucius shrugged, unconcerned. “I have no idea. Anyway, while I’m all for keeping it in the family, there _is_ something to be said for breaking in a new toy, particularly when he happens to be a delicious, randy, green-eyed minx with an obvious oral fixation." Both men looked at Harry, who blushed hotly.  
  
Snape’s hips snapped one last time, and then the man gave a long, low groan that made Harry shiver right down to his toes—and Lucius’, too, it seemed.   
  
Finally Snape pulled out, and Harry sort of collapsed on the floor like a soufflé. “Goodness,” Lucius remarked. “Best get him upstairs.” He set his wine glass down and retrieved his wand, levitating Harry’s boneless body up the stairs of Snape’s house and on to a small bed. “That _was_ a bit of a workout, wasn’t it?” he remarked airly, sitting beside Harry and absently brushing Harry’s sweaty fringe out of his face.   
  
“Good gods, don’t put him on the bed like that,” Harry dimly heard Snape complain. “Keep him up while I get a flannel.”  
  
Lucius piffed at this, manipulating Harry so he could swing his legs up as well. The man yawned and said, “You know, Tuesday nights really _are_ getting to be a bit much. I’m not as young as I once was. Maybe I should take up some other hobby.”  
  
“Crochet?” Harry suggested tiredly.  
  
“I must admit I’m surprised you agreed to come, in all possible uses of the term.”  
  
“I didn’t,” Harry protested. He opened one eye to find Snape hovering over him with a wet flannel, looking appraisingly. Still, the man was gentle enough, if brief and businesslike.   
  
“Hah. Why on else would you show up on our front stoop on Tuesday night—which everyone knows is wild-orgy-night—and come blundering in and demanding your needs be met?” Snape asked.   
  
“That wasn’t my need! I mean, I didn’t ask for that,” Harry protested.   
  
“What did you want, then?” Snape replied, sounding disbelieving.   
  
Harry’s mouth stretched open wide, and it took a few minutes for the yawn to pass. “Dreamless Sleep,” he muttered finally. “I haven’t slept in days. Draco said you had some, and he would have come with except—” Harry broke off and yawned again “—he had plans with Blaise Zabini. But he said if I came and said he’d sent me, you’d take care of me.”  
  
Lucius snorted. “Well, he was certainly dead on about _that,_ wasn’t he?”  
  
Snape looked rather embarrassed. “Ah. Well. Misunderstandings do happen. I, er, have some in the bathroom cupboard, as a matter of fact. I’ll just go and get it.”  
  
“Good,” Harry grumbled. “I can’t take another night without sleep.” He nuzzled closer to Lucius’ warmth. The man made a noise of amusement, but didn’t push him away.   
  
A few minutes later, Harry thought he heard Snape’s footsteps return, but he was too groggy to open his eyes again.  
  
Snape snorted. “So much for my much vaunted potions,” he grumbled.   
  
“Well, drugs aren’t good for the body, anyway,” Lucius said dismissively. “Our cure was probably _much_ healthier.”  
  
Snape hummed in agreement, the bed dipping as he sat on Harry’s other side. “A cunning argument,” he said. “We’ll keep it in stock for the next time he can’t drift off.”  
  
Would there be a next time? Harry wondered drowsily. Well, why not? He’d got a good hour or so of exercise and he was probably keeping both Snape and Lucius from other heinous deeds. It really was an ideal cure. Harry rolled onto his side, still smiling as he drifted off.


End file.
